Half-Twins
by nicnac918
Summary: Winter of 1982, Stan Pines arrives in Gravity Falls after being summoned by his brother Ford. Both of them are in for a big surprise. Or more accurately, two little ones.
1. Chapter 1

Mabel crouched behind the machine outside the gas station and waited for someone she knew to come. But not anybody she knew, 'cause she couldn't go talk to anybody who knew that she was supposed to be staying with Mr. Dan right now while her daddy worked on a dangerous 'sperment, 'cause then they'd want to take her back to Mr. Dan's house instead of home. Mabel had to go home, Daddy needed her; she could tell. He called every night before bedtime to wish Mabel goodnight, and she could tell how much he missed her and that he was really sad without her. Thinking about Daddy being sad made Mabel even more sad than she already was without Daddy. Mabel had to go home, because they shouldn't both be sad when they could both be happy instead. Plus as she stayed at Mr. Dan's house for longer and longer, Daddy's voice when he called her got sadder and sadder, but also scareder and scareder. She thought that his 'sperment wasn't just dangerous for her, but it was dangerous and bad for Daddy too, so she had to go home and help him.

Mabel watched for someone she knew except anybody who would take her back to Mr. Dan's house. And she also couldn't go talk to anybody who wouldn't drive her to her house 'cause they thought Daddy was weird and scary, even though that was stupid to think, and Daddy was the best person in the whole world, and people who thought that were mean, and Mabel didn't like mean people. Except that meant she couldn't talk to any of the people in her class, and Mabel didn't know a lot of other people. Maybe Mr. Fiddleford would come. He was nice, and he and Daddy were fighting right now so he wouldn't know that Mabel was supposed to be at Mr. Dan's house. Yeah, that would be the best thing.

Mabel hugged her coat closer and shivered. It was really cold outside. It hadn't felt too cold before when she had been walking from Mr. Dan's house to the gas station, but it felt super extra cold now. She hoped Mr. Fiddleford got here soon.

A car pulled up to the gas station. Mabel didn't think it was Mr. Fiddleford's, 'cause it was bright red, and she didn't remember his car looking like that. His car was a brown color. The shape looked kind of right though, so maybe he painted it? Mabel watched closely as the person got out of the car just in case.

It wasn't Mr. Fiddleford. For a minute Mabel thought it was Daddy, and she got really excited. She almost ran out to see him, but then he turned a little and she could tell it wasn't Daddy after all. But he looked a lot like Daddy. A lot a lot. More than was possible, Mabel bet. Oh no, it must be the evil shapeshifter! Daddy told her about the evil shapeshifter, and he said he locked it up, but it must of escaped. And now it was pretending to be her daddy for 'farious purposes.

Mabel thought really quick and decided she had to do something. Maybe the evil shapeshifter was even the dangerous 'sperment Daddy was talking about. So if Mabel followed him and figured out where he was hiding and what his evil plan was, then she could go back to Daddy and tell him. Then Daddy would fix everything, and then Mabel could stay at home in her own house in her own room with her own daddy and never have to go stay at Mr. Dan's again. Mabel nodded to herself. That was a good plan. Even better than her last one.

Mabel snuck around the gas station super careful. Luckily the evil shapeshifter had gone inside the store, and there was only one 'tendant, and he was filling up the evil shapeshifter's car, so he wasn't paying attention to Mabel. She snuck to the other side of the car and hid there until the 'tendant was done and walking back to the store too. Then she opened the door and got in the car. Even more lucky, the car had all kinds of clothes and blankets and bags and stuff in the back seat, so Mabel sat down behind the driver's seat and put some of the blanket and clothes on top of her to hide. But all that was hot and the clothes smelled bad like when Daddy forgot to do the laundry for a long time. So Mabel turned around so her back was facing the front of the car and then she put the blankets over her back and sides, but left her front free so she could breathe good. Then she waited.

She was worried that maybe she would have to wait a really long time, but it only took a few minutes until the car door opened. She heard the evil shapeshifter climb in from behind her, and Mabel got ready to be taken to his secret hideout. But before he could even turn the car on, another door opened, the other backseat door. A boy who looked like the same age as Mabel climbed in and he was looking right at her.

Probably the boy was an evil shapeshifter too, and she was about to be in big trouble. But maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was a regular boy, and the evil shapeshifter had kidnapped him or tricked him into thinking he wasn't a shapeshifter. Or maybe the boy was a shapeshifter, but he was a little kid one like she was a little kid so he wasn't evil yet like the grown-up one. In case he wasn't a bad guy, Mabel put her finger over her mouth really hard so he would know it was really important not to tell the evil shapeshifter she was back there.

But it was too late. Before Mabel could finish putting her finger over her mouth, the boy already gasped in surprise from seeing her. "Dipper?" said the evil shapeshifter. "What's wrong?"

Dipper stared at her, and Mabel stared back with her finger on her mouth and her eyes really big. "It's nothing," he said after a long time.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Um… I thought I saw an elf. Over there, outside the car," Dipper said. Mabel smiled at him really big. He hadn't telled on her. She couldn't say thank you to him 'cause she had to be quiet, but she would make sure Daddy rescued him from the evil shapeshifter and took him back to his mommy and daddy. Or maybe he didn't have a mommy and daddy, and instead Daddy could adopt him, and he could be her brother! Mabel always really wanted to have a brother or sister.

"Geez, you had me worried for a second there, kid." The evil shapeshifter turned the car on and started driving. "So an elf, huh? What did he look like?"

"It was a girl elf," Dipper said.

"Oh, a _girl_ elf. Was she good-looking?"

"That's gross," Dipper said.

"Eh, give it ten years, then we'll see. So what did she look like?" the evil shapeshifter asked.

"She had long brown hair and a puffy pink jacket, and she was a kid same as me." Mabel had to try really hard not to laugh 'cause she realized Dipper was talking about her, but he was tricking the evil shapeshifter into thinking Mabel was outside the car, not hiding in the car. He was really smart.

"Yeah?" said the evil shapeshifter. "Well if we end up hanging around here for a while maybe you'll see her again. Make friends."

"Maybe," Dipper said. "She looked nice." Mabel nodded really hard, because she was nice and she did want to be friends with Dipper. But she had to be careful not to nod too hard, because then the evil shapeshifter might hear her moving and find her.

Dipper and the evil shapeshifter talked a little more, but then the evil shapeshifter said he couldn't talk because it was snowing outside and he had to pay attention to driving. The evil shapeshifter didn't talk like he was evil, but maybe that was 'cause that was how he was tricking Dipper, who was nice, into thinking he was nice too.

Dipper had a cup in his hands that he was sipping from, and it smelled really good. It smelled like hot chocolate which was Mabel's favorite drink in the whole wide world. And hot chocolate was nice and warm, and even though Mabel wasn't cold anymore in the car, she remembered being cold outside and warm hot chocolate in her tummy sounded really good. Plus it had been a really long time since lunch, and Mabel had walked really far today, and she wanted a snack and something to drink.

Dipper saw her looking at his cup, and then he looked up front at the evil shapeshifter. Mabel guessed that the evil shapeshifter wasn't looking back, 'cause after Dipper looked, he held his cup out to Mabel. Mabel took it from him and took a drink of it. It was hot chocolate, and there was even whipped cream on top of it. It was so yummy that Mabel wanted to drink it all. But it wasn't her hot chocolate, it was Dipper's, so after she took her drink, she handed it back to him. Dipper took another sip, then handed it right back to her. Mabel smiled really big, and then the two of them took turns taking drinks until it was all gone.

A little bit after they finished the hot chocolate, the evil shapeshifter parked the car and turned it off. "I guess this is the place."

Mabel made a sneaky peek out the window, and her eyes went super big. They were at her house. The evil shapeshifter had come to get her daddy. Mabel jumped out of the car as quick as she could and ran across the yard to the house, screaming, "Daddy! Daddy!"

* * *

Despite his best efforts, Ford had fallen asleep again. No, be optimistic; maybe he was just having another hallucination brought on by severe sleep-deprivation. It was rather prosaic for either a nightmare or hallucination, but thematically it could fit either. Ford pinched himself and felt a sharp twinge. Not a dream, then. It was possible to feel pain in a dream, Bill had proven that amply over the past month, but he never interfered with the pinch test. He said it was because he didn't want Ford to completely lose his grip on reality yet, but Ford suspected that Bill was just amused by his terror whenever he realized he was asleep. So, not a dream which meant a hallucination or…

The whole time he had been contemplating the possibilities, Ford's feet had been carrying him – quickly, very quickly – to the front door, and then his hands flew down the row of locks, unlatching them all. Because there was a third possibility, one that he became more and more convinced was the right one with every passing second. Either Ford was hallucinating, or Mabel was really outside, hurt, scared, in danger, and screaming for him.

Ford flung the door open just in time to catch Mabel before she ran headlong into it. He swept her up in his arms and hugged her tight – tighter than probably entirely advisable, but she didn't seem to mind. He could feel his entire body relax the smallest fraction. Intellectually he knew that this house was one of the most dangerous places in the world for her to be right now, but there was something satisfying on a fundamental emotional level about knowing his daughter was here in his arms where he could protect her. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"An evil shapeshifter is coming to get you!" Mabel yelled.

Ford had been expecting something related to Bill attacking her via a person he was possessing, with an outside chance of it being gnomes trying to kidnap her as a gift for their queen – it was getting to be that time of year again – and his sleep-deprived, panic-soaked brain was simply incapable of parsing out the abrupt shift in anything close to a reasonable time frame.

"I'm not a shapeshifter," said a familiar voice – still immediately and viscerally familiar in a way it really shouldn't be after ten years, and yet. "And I'm getting the feeling she ain't an elf either."

"That's just what an evil shapeshifter would say," Mabel said, pointing an accusing finger. His daughter was amazing.

"He's not a shapeshifter," Ford confirmed. "This is my twin brother, Stanley."

"Ohhhh, that's why he looks like you, 'cause he's your brother. Daddy, is twins the one where you both have the same birthday?"

"Yes, that's right," he said, but Ford's mind was already racing ahead. It had been a false alarm, Mabel was fine, but his brain couldn't accept that. It couldn't be a false alarm, there were no false alarms, Bill was always there waiting for the opportunity to strike, and just because it was Stan's body, how did he know it was actually Stan?

"Mabel, let me see your necklace," he said, only to be hit with a fresh wave of panic. "Don't take it off."

"I know. I never ever take my necklace off not even if I'm sleeping or taking a bath or even if you tell me to." Especially not if Ford told her to, because if he was telling her to take the necklace off then it wouldn't be him talking at all. Without removing it, Mabel pulled her necklace out from under her shirt for Ford to inspect.

The necklace was something Ford had crafted for Mabel himself based on a variation of a spell to shield from paranormal influences. It had taken him three false tries to get the proportions right – luckily he had gathered himself enough supplies for at least five attempts – but he'd eventually managed to create something that worked. It had an oblong moonstone as a pendant, set with two silver wires circling the top and bottom of the stone connected by a third wire running up the back to the cord. The cord was made of braided unicorn hair and rabbit fur – the quick part of quicksilver, since Ford could hardly give his daughter a necklace soaked in mercury. Celestabellbethabelle hadn't been too keen on the idea of giving up some of her hair, but by that point Ford honestly hadn't cared what she was keen on, all he cared about was keeping Mabel safe from Bill.

"Good," Ford said, letting out a sigh of relief at seeing Mabel with the necklace on and intact. "Now how did you get here?" No point in asking why she had come; She had been excited about a sleepover at Dan's house for all of two days and then had proceeded to ask when she could come home every night afterward. He couldn't blame her for her growing skepticism of his claims of "soon." He'd honestly thought he would have come up with a brilliant plan to stop Bill, save the universe, and be a hero by now, but all he seemed to be able to come up with were nightmares and worst case scenarios.

"Mr. Dan had a whole big tree in the backyard he said he was going to chop to firewood, so I went out the front when he was busy doing that. I was going to walk here, but I went the wrong way, and I went to town instead. Then I waited at the gas station for someone to take me back home. I saw Uncle Stanley there, but I thought he was an evil shapeshifter, so I hid in his car to follow him back to his hideout and find out his evil plan, but he drove here instead, and now here I am," said Mabel.

"You let a six-year-old follow you here?" Ford demanded, glaring at Stan.

"What are you getting mad at me for? It was your kid that followed me. And you know, it's not like you told me this was some kind of stealth mission, or told me anything at all except to come. Besides, I got betrayed by my lookout here." The last sentence was said with a measure of fondness as Stan ruffled the hair of the child standing next to him, a boy who looked to be about Mabel's age. A child. Stan had a child. What.

"You have a child," Ford said.

"Yeah I got a kid, just like you've apparently got," Stan said. It struck Ford then that it must be equally bizarre for Stan to see him with a child as it was for him to see Stan with one. Children certainly hadn't been a part of Ford's plan or life trajectory when he and Stan had last seen each other. Mabel had just become so much a part of his life being surprised by her seemed to make as much sense as being surprised that he had two arms.

"Now if you don't mind," Stan continued, "I'd like to get him out of the cold."

"Right, of course, come in, come in," Ford said. He had to set Mabel down so he could close the door behind them and lock it. Stan and the boy shuffled out of the way to let Ford do so, moving themselves in between Ford and Mabel, and _he didn't know if Stan was really Stan yet_.

Ford whirled around, grabbed Stan by the collar, slammed him against the wall, and peered into his eyes with the aid of a flashlight. "Ah! Hey! What is this?" Stan said, pushing him away. Ford allowed him to do so, reassured by eyes that weren't the slightest bit yellow and pupils that were completely round. Stan was himself, which just left the child. Who was a child. It was one thing throwing Stan around a little, but Ford couldn't do that to someone who was probably the same age as his daughter, especially when he didn't know for certain Bill had possessed him.

Instead Ford knelt down in front of the boy and said in the gentlest voice he could muster at the moment, "I need to quickly check your eyes to make sure you're not…" he faltered. He couldn't very well say he was checking to be certain the boy wasn't possessed by a demon. For one thing Stan, and by extension Stan's son, probably wouldn't believe him and would assume he was crazy. On the other hand Mabel very certainly would believe him and would be terrified, which is why Ford hadn't told her anything about Bill in the first place. "It's a safety precaution," Ford eventually concluded.

The boy stared at Ford, skeptical and belligerent, but gave no acknowledgment of Ford's words and definitely no indication of agreement to Ford's request. Ford waited, wrestling down the panicked urge to just grab the boy and check; he could be Bill Cipher _right now, just check already._ No stop. Ford had more patience than a small child. He could wait. He. Could. Wait.

Just as Ford thought he was about to start literally twitching with nerves, Stan addressed his son. "Look, I don't have a clue what your uncle is on about right now, but I know him well enough to be able to tell he's not going to explain anything until after you let him shine the flashlight in your face. So let's just get it over with, okay?"

"Okay," the boy said. He looked at Ford and braced himself. Ford made it as quick as possible, left eye, right eye, all clear. Neither Stan nor his son were possessed, and Mabel still had her necklace on, so as long as Ford didn't fall asleep, they were all safe for the moment. He slumped a little in relief and smiled at the boy. His nephew.

From the moment he had seen the boy, Ford had assumed he was Stan's son, but it was only now that Ford realized being Stan's son would necessarily extend to the boy also being Ford's nephew. And Ford was making a pretty poor showing of a first impression, wasn't he? "Sorry about that. Greetings. I'm your dad's brother, Stanford. You can call me Uncle Ford." The boy continued to look skeptical.

"And I'm Mabel!" She bounced her way in between Ford and the boy, and then continued to bounce in place as she spoke. "I'm six-and-a-half years old and my favorite color is glitter. Your name is Dipper, right? What's your favorite color? Are you older than me or younger? Thanks for not telling on me in the car and sharing your hot chocolate. Hot chocolate's my favorite drink. What's yours? Did you know that since our daddies are brothers that means we're cousins? Do you want to be my new best friend?"

"Sweetheart," Ford said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He can't answer you if you don't give him a chance to talk." Mabel immediately slapped both hands over her mouth, but she did not stop bouncing.

"Ummm…" Dipper glanced up at Stan.

"What are you looking at me for?" Stan said. "You know the answers to those questions."

Dipper looked back at Mabel a fidgeted a couple times before answering. "Yeah, I'm Dipper, and I know we're cousins. My favorite color is blue, and my favorite drink is lemonade. I don't know who's older because I'm six-and-a-half too. My birthday is August 31st." Huh. Now that was an unlikely coincidence.

Mabel turned to Ford and began bouncing even more energetically than before, if that was possible. "Daddy, me and Dipper are twins too!"

"No, twins only applies to siblings, brothers and sisters, that are born on the same day," Ford explained. Mabel looked so immediately crestfallen that Ford couldn't leave it at that. "But the two of you are related, and you do share a birthday, so you can be half-twins, maybe?"

"Mmmm, I think that's good. Dipper, we can be half-twins and best friends, okay?" Mabel said.

"Oh. Uh, yeah, okay," Dipper said. He seemed a little overwhelmed but not disingenuous, which was good. For reasons Ford could not begin to comprehend, Mabel had trouble making friends with the other kids in school, so he was glad she had hit it off so well with her cousin.

"C'mon, I want to show you my room," Mabel said. She grabbed Dipper's hand and tore out of the room, dragging him along behind her. Ford's hands twitched in an aborted attempt to stop her, but he forced himself to let her go. The house was locked up and secure, and until he could rid himself of Bill, Mabel was safer the farther she was away from Ford. She would be fine.

As though to underscore that point, Mabel's voice, as chipper as ever, came echoing from down the hallway. "Daddy, you need to clean 'cause everything is really messy even though my room is clean!"

"That's because you haven't been around to make a mess of it!" Ford called back. Bill had been around to make a mess, one of his more petty ways of tormenting Ford, but Ford had always made sure to return Mabel's room to how she had left it afterward.

"That's not my fault!" Mabel didn't sound the least bit accusatory, but Ford flinched anyway. It wasn't her fault, it was Ford's for taking so long to get rid of Bill, for ever letting Bill into his life in the first place.

"I'll clean soon!" As soon as he got rid of Bill, which couldn't be too much longer now, for the sake of his sanity, it _couldn't_.

Stan was giving him a funny look. Ford cleared his throat awkwardly and stood up straight. "We have a deal," he explained. "She keeps her room and things clean, and I do the same. In this case my room encompasses the entire rest of the house."

"All those years and that's was the trick to getting up to pick up your nerd stuff?" Stan asked.

"It would have required you to pick up your things as well," Ford said.

"Good point, never mind then. That sounds like way to much work." Stan hesitated a moment, then continued. "So… I'm guessing no wife around to help you tidy up either?"

"No, I do not have a wife," Ford snapped. He was tired of being asked that question and of people acting as though he was an insufficient parent by himself and was obligated to provide Mabel with a mother.

Stan threw his hands up in a defense gesture. "Whoa, hey, no judgement here buddy. It's just that I've apparently got a niece that I'm assuming you didn't cook up in a lab, so I was wondering if there was any more surprise family I needed to know about."

"Oh." Put like that, Ford supposed it wasn't unreasonable for Stan to wonder if his brother were married. "No, no wife. There was a girlfriend at one point. Well, I call her that, but in retrospect she was clearly using me to help her pass her classes, and I think I was only flattered by the attention. It was at least a month after she suddenly cut off all contact with me that I even noticed she had, and even then I assumed she'd lost interest and didn't think about her again for months. Not until I opened my front door to a literal baby in a basket accompanied by a note that read 'Do what you want with her. I don't care.'"

"Geez, that might actually be worse than my story. At least Marilyn cared about Dipper."

"Who's Marilyn?"

"Technically she's my ex-wife, though she only married me as part of a scam to steal my car. Then she calls me up two months later to tell me I got her pregnant and I owe her money to help pay any medical bills. Then once Dipper was born she tells me I'm a bad influence and she's not going to let me see 'her' kid, not that that ever stopped her for hitting me up for more money," Stan said, having worked himself up to a good rant by the end of it.

"At least she changed her mind?" Ford offered.

"Changed her mind nothing. She got in a car crash about three-and-a-half years ago and died. Couldn't have happened to a nicer person."

Ford wasn't sure what to say to that. 'I'm sorry' was the traditional response when someone had died, but it felt inappropriate here as Stan didn't seem too sorry about her passing. Not that Ford could blame him. Ford felt deprived for having missed the first two days of Mabel's life; he didn't want to have to imagine having missed out on the first three years. "Dipper seems like a good kid," he settled on finally for lack of anything else to say.

Stan smiled. "He's a great kid. Kind of shy, but he's tough. And smart. Honestly, probably smarter than his old man already. And he loves mysteries and puzzles and all kinds of science junk. He, uh… he actually reminds me of you a lot of the time."

Oh. That was. Oh. "Mabel's got a lot of personality." Ford didn't say she reminded him of Stan, mostly because she hadn't, not explicitly. But there had been times when something she said or did made Ford especially nostalgic for his childhood, so maybe the implication in his words just now had really been there all along.

Stan looked somewhat pleased but also embarrassed by Ford's almost-confession, which was ridiculous because Stan was the one who had started it. "That's, uh…" He licked his lips. "You had something you wanted my help with?"

Whatever moment they had been having shattered in an instant, Ford's fear of Bill only that much stronger for having been forgotten for even a moment. He had to give Stan his journal and get him and the children out of here _now_ , before… "Yes, hurry; there's not much time," Ford said, darting deeper into the house toward the door to the basement, and _was that skeleton looking at him?_ He turned the head around, just in case. "I've made huge mistakes, and I don't know who I can trust anymore."

"Whoa, easy there; we went from zero to freak out in two seconds flat. Let's talk this through, okay?"

Stan didn't understand. He didn't have the first inkling of the enormity of the situation, and he couldn't, not unless... "I have something to show you. Something you won't believe."

"Hey, I found out you have a kid today, something I discovered by her suddenly bursting out of my car out of nowhere. After that, nothing can shock me."

* * *

"This is completely shocking," Stan said. Not as shocking as Ford's surprise 'I have a daughter' reveal, but honestly that one would be a little hard to top. Still, the giant menacing machine in the secret underground basement was good try for it. What the hell was this thing? Was it a doomsday device? Had Ford become a mad scientist? That was probably a far more likely possibility than Stan wanted to admit. "What am I even looking at right now?"

"It's a trans-universal gateway, a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. That's why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explained how to operate it. There's only one journal left. And you are the _only_ person I can trust to take it," Ford said, and he handed the book over to Stan.

So that was something, right? Upstairs Ford had said he didn't know who he could trust anymore, and now he was saying he could trust Stan. And yeah, maybe it was just he had to trust somebody and he'd run out of other options, but that still meant he considered Stan an option. Maybe that meant 'I forgive you for what happened, and I'm sorry,' or at least maybe it could if Stan wanted it to bad enough.

"I have something to ask of you," Ford said. "You remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?" Now there was an idea. A crazy, stupid idea, and no way could Stan go along with it. He had a kid, he couldn't run off to live on a boat with his brother. Except Dipper would probably like living on a boat, exploring the world and international treasure hunting. Stan and Ford would have loved it at his age. And Mabel seemed like the kind of kid that could have fun doing just about anything. Ford could homeschool – boatschool – the kids, and they'd hit it off well enough just now that they'd always have one good friend to play with, and that was all a person ever really needed. It was still a crazy stupid idea, but, you know, Stan was kind of a crazy stupid guy.

But Ford wasn't done talking. "Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as you can! To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!"

"That's it?" Stan yelled. He felt like throwing Ford's stupid book right back at his stupid face. Better yet, he should just hit Ford in the face, since as far as Stan was concerned, Ford had already thrown the first punch. "You finally wanna see me after ten years, and it's to tell me to get as far away from you as possible? Well, I got bad news for you: I've got a kid now, so I can't run off to Siberia just because you tell me to. Find someone else to hide your stupid journal." Stan shoved the book back at his brother.

Ford shoved it right back at him. "Stanley, you don't understand what I'm up against. You have to take the journal. I'm not asking you to move to Siberia, just go there briefly to hide it. It doesn't have to be Siberia either, just someplace isolated and remote. A small uninhabited island in the Caribbean maybe. Yes, something like that would be good; Mabel would love to go to the beach."

"Mabel? What does Mabel have to do with anything?"

"Because I don't want you to just take the journal when you go. I need you to take Mabel too."

"What the hell? I don't – what the _hell_? What, do you not care about her either?"

Ford _glared_ at him. Stan had seen his brother mad tons of times before, but this look had him taking a step back almost instinctively. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Maybe Stan didn't understand much about Ford's trans-uni-whatever, but he had seen the way Ford had hugged Mabel close and his protective look when he thought she was in danger, and that Stan did understand.

"Mabel is the most important thing in the world to me. I would sacrifice the world to keep her safe, and Bill knows – I mean, that's why she's in danger. That's why you have to take her, just until I can sort things out here, to keep her safe."

"Wait a second, Mabel's in danger?" Stan asked. "Are we in danger? Is Dipper in danger? Because I swear Ford, I don't care if you are my brother, if you had me drag my son into danger-"

"I didn't know you were going to bring a child with you!" Ford protested. "And he should be safe as long as you get him out of here, quickly. So take my journal, take Mabel, and _leave_."

"I can't take Mabel with me," Stan said.

"What?" Ford yelled. "Are you really that selfish, Stanley? You were just threatening me because I might have possibly accidentally put your son in danger, but now that I'm telling you my daughter, _your niece_ , is in real and definite danger, you can't be bothered to help?"

"No, you don't understand; I _can't_ take her. I can barely manage to take care of Dipper and myself. Hell, I can't even manage that. You know what Dipper said to me when I told him we had to pack up all our stuff to drive halfway across the country? He said 'okay,'" Stan said. Ford stared at him blankly. Yeah, admittedly Stan could have explained that one better. "The point is he didn't ask why, he didn't get upset, he didn't ask how long we were going to be gone for or if we were coming back, he just said okay. Because he thinks that's normal. Because I've forgotten how many times we've had to pick up and move because I couldn't afford wherever we were staying anymore because I lost my job or the rent went up, or because something else bad happened and I had to get the hell out of town. I don't understand what you're up against? _You_ don't understand what _I'm_ up against. I keep trying to put together a decent life for my son, and I keep screwing it up. And I tell myself, 'hey, at least we haven't had to live out of the car since I took Dipper in.' That's a win for me Ford, and I hate it. So I'm sorry Mabel's in trouble, and I'd like to help, but I can't take her."

"Stanley. I didn't…" For a second Ford looked thrown from his personal issues and like he was actually thinking about Stan's problems. But just for a second. "No, no, no," he said, tugging at his hair. "I need… I'll pay you. I'll give you money to cover Mabel's expenses and pay you in addition for your time and effort in taking care of her and in taking the journal. I'll make sure you have what you need, so I need you to take my journal and Mabel far away from here. From this town, from the portal, from me, from Bill, from danger."

"Hold up, that's the second time you've mentioned this Bill guy. Who is Bill? Just what the hell is going on with you?"

"That's not important," Ford said.

"The hell it's not. You want me to take your kid and leave the country with her. That's the kind of thing that can get you arrested on suspected kidnapping, and I don't need to give Child Protective Services another reason to come after me. So if I'm going to do this for you, I'm going to understand why. Tell me what's going on here; all of it."

"If I explain, then you'll take them and go?" Ford pleaded.

"I'm definitely not going to do it if you don't." That was a lie. Stan was stubborn, but Ford was probably the one person in the world who could out-stubborn him. Even if Stan didn't understand what was going on, Ford was freaked out enough for him to believe that there was danger, and Ford was trusting Stan with his daughter. That was big. Big enough that Stan couldn't really be mad anymore about Ford wanting to send him away. So if Ford flat-out refused to tell Stan anything, he would eventually cave and do what Ford asked anyway. But Stan did still want to know what was going on, and if there was one person in the world that could out-stubborn Ford, it was Stan.

Ford looked at Stan for a long moment, then slumped in on himself. "Okay. Okay. I'll tell you," he said. "As I mentioned before, this is a trans-universal gateway. You are familiar with multiverse theory?"

"Multiverse as in multiple universes?" Stan guessed. "So like the idea there's a bunch of other universes like ours out there? Are you saying this thing can let you travel to other universes?"

"Yes, exactly. But it doesn't just allow us to go there, it also allows beings from other dimensions to come through to our own. And not all of those dimensions are like ours. One such being is Bill Cipher, a dream demon from the Nightmare Realm."

"I do not like the sound of that," Stan said.

"You shouldn't. Presently Bill is trapped in the Nightmare Realm and is only able to interact with our universe via the Mindscape. I believe he is able to enter the dreams of anyone around the world – aside from Mabel – but his power is much stronger here in Gravity Falls where the barrier between our dimensions is weak. His ultimate goal is to use this gateway to physically come into our universe and destroy it. That's what I'm trying to prevent."

So. Ford definitely wasn't lying. Ford was a terrible liar, and Stan would know if he was. Which meant one of two things: either this machine did what Ford said it did and there was an actual demon on the other side, or Ford had gone crazy. Either way, Stan running off to the Caribbean or wherever was not the solution.

"You're sure the only way Bill can mess with us is through dreams?" Crazy or real, Stan needed to understand what the rules were here.

"Yes," Ford answered quickly – very quickly, and he kind of twitched when he said it. "Yes, that's the only way Bill has of directly interacting with us." See, that right there, that was a lie. Maybe not a _lie_ lie by some technicality, but there was something Ford wasn't telling him. Stan wouldn't push it yet though, he bet if he kept asking questions then the truth would come out on its own.

"And this is a 'you die in the dream, you die in real life' type of deal, right?"

"No, horrific as they can be, they are still just nightmares." Ha, like Stan hadn't dealt with a million and one of those in the past ten years. If all this demon had to throw at them was nightmares, then that was no problem. Well, no problem for Stan.

"You said he can't get into Mabel's dreams? Is that something you did; could you rig something up like that for Dipper?" Stan asked.

"That's Mabel's necklace, it prevents any unwanted supernatural forces from affecting her. I do have enough materials for another on hand; I suppose I could make one quickly before you leave for Dipper. But if I do, it is absolutely imperative that you monitor me at all times from now until you leave to make certain I don't fall asleep. I cannot fall asleep, do you understand?"

"Why not?" Stan asked. "I know that nightmares are no fun, but you seem like you could really use a nap." Stan took another look at the deep bags under Ford's eyes and the twitchiness of his movement. "A nice, twenty hour nap."

"No! I can't sleep, no matter what."

Stan eyed his brother. "Ford. What happens if you fall asleep?"

Ford twitched again. "I said dreams are Bill's only direct way of interacting with our universe, but via the Mindscape he has some indirect options. Specifically, when I fall asleep he can enter my mind and use it to take control over my body."

"What the actual fuck?" Stan yelled. "You're going to warn me about bad dreams, but you don't think the possibility of getting possessed by a demon rates a mention?"

"He can't possess you," Ford said. "As far as I'm aware, I'm the only one he can do that to currently. He has a special hold on my mindscape."

"So why aren't you wearing one of those necklaces?" Stan demanded.

"Because the necklace wouldn't work on me," Ford answered.

"Why not? Demon possession sounds like a supernatural force to me."

"It protects from _unwanted_ supernatural forces. Though uninvited might be a better term, and if the supernatural force in question were able to obtain a standing invitation…"

Stan closed his eyes and groaned. "Please tell me you didn't literally make a deal with an actual demon."

"Demon is a descriptive term for Bill, not a prescriptive one," Ford replied.

"Does that mean yes?"

"It means I didn't know he was a demon until after I made the deal."

"So, that's a yes," Stan said. Ford looked a weird combination of sheepish and mulish and didn't argue. "Well if we're talking demon possession, have you tried an exorcism?"

"I just told you Bill is not some mythical Judeo-Christian demon. Demon is only the label I applied to him after the fact as it reasonably described his behavior and abilities."

"Okay, but did you try an exorcism?" Don't knock it until you try it, right?

"It didn't work," Ford admitted.

An exorcism didn't work, the necklace didn't work, so what else? "He gets at you through your mind, right? Maybe try the tinfoil on the head thing," Stan suggested.

"I'm not putting tinfoil on my head," Ford snapped.

"What, you afraid it'll make you look like a street crazy? I hate to break it to you, but that ship has sailed," Stan told him.

Ford leveled a narrow-eyed glare at him. "You think I'm crazy. You aren't trying to help at all; you're mocking me. Give me my journal back. I'll find someone else to hide it," he said, reaching for the journal.

Stan clutched it closer to his chest and took a few steps back out of Ford's reach. "No, you wanted me to have it, so I'm keeping it." Not that Stan actually wanted the journal, it was about the principle of not letting Ford shut him out.

"I don't need help from someone who thinks I'm crazy," Ford snarled.

"Honestly, right now I'm just playing the odds. Way I figure it either you're crazy or there really is a demon, and I like our odds a lot better when I believe you and it turns out you're just crazy than in the situation that goes the other way around."

The angry expression dropped off Ford's face, and he blinked at Stan a couple times. "You believe me."

"I believe you," Stan said. "I also believe your dignity ain't worth not trying every single possibility for keeping yourself from being _possessed by a demon."_

"You're right. Of course you're right. I just…" Ford crinkled his nose in distaste. "Tinfoil. On my head."

"You're only trying it out; it might not even work," Stan said with a shrug. "If it doesn't, we'll think of something else."

"We? There is no we. You are taking the children and the journal and getting far, far away from here," Ford insisted.

"Yeah… I'm not doing that," Stan said.

"What do you mean 'you're not doing that?' You said you believed me about Bill, you said you understood."

"What I understand is you want me to abandon you locked up alone in a haunted house being harassed by a demon and unable to go to sleep. That is not happening. What we're going to do is you're going to make that necklace for Dipper, we're going to go up to the kitchen and get some tinfoil on your head and food in your stomach, and then I'm going to tie you down to the bed and gag you so you can get some sleep." Stan stopped to consider what he'd just said. "You know, this isn't even the weirdest thing I've ever done. Which reminds me, if a Jimmy Snakes comes poking around you don't know me and last you heard I had fled to Siberia."

"Jimmy Snakes, who is – no, that's not important. You can't stay; it's too dangerous."

"Shit, does Bill have super strength or psychic powers or something when he's in your body?" Stan had been thinking rope, but maybe if they got some chains… But that wouldn't help if it was about to get all _Carrie_ up in here.

"No, he's limited by my physical capabilities." Well that was a relief. "Even so, there's a myriad of ways this plan of yours could go terribly wrong," Ford said.

"You made a deal with a demon. There are no options left that can't go wrong in some way." Stan sighed. "Look, I know I still don't understand everything going on here, but we'll figure it out together."

* * *

"Plus with a bunk bed we can hang blankets from the top bed and make a secret fort on the bottom bed," Mabel said.

"Yeah, that would be fun," Dipper said. He squeezed the stuffed dragon he was holding tighter. He left his chameleon in the car, so Mabel said he could borrow this one because she had lots and lots of stuffed animals. It would be really fun to have bunks beds, except… "I think bunk beds are probably expensive."

"Maybe, but we can ask," Mabel said.

"I don't know if my dad and me are going to stay long enough to get them either."

"Dipper. Don't you even _want_ bunk beds?"

Dipper nodded really hard. "I do." Mabel's house was really big and a little scary, but Mabel said it only looked scary right now because it was messy, and it didn't look scary at all when Uncle Ford kept it clean. Plus even though it was big, Dipper thought it wouldn't be too big once he learned how all the rooms went. Uncle Ford was a little weird and scary too, but Mabel said he wasn't like that all the time neither. It was just because he had a dangerous experiment right now that he was acting weird, and most of the time he was really nice, and he took Mabel out on adventures to see real live magic creatures. Mabel said that the next time they went on an adventure Dipper could come too and Dipper's dad, and they would all go together like a big family adventure, and Dipper really, really wanted bunk beds. He was just scared to ask for them. "I want them, but you be the one to ask your dad for them."

"Okay, but I'm telling him you said you wanted them too because he'll have to get them if we both want them," Mabel said.

"Hey kids! Come down to the kitchen!" Dad called from downstairs.

"Coming!" Mabel yelled back. She ran out of the room, and Dipper had to run after her so he wouldn't get lost.

Dad and Uncle Ford were both in the kitchen, and when Dipper and Mabel got there Mabel ran right up to Uncle Ford and hugged him. "Daddy! I missed you a lot, a lot, a lot, a lot, a lot. I don't want to go back to Mr. Dan's house anymore."

"Well I'm still working on my experiment-"

"No!" Mabel yelled and she hugged him tighter.

"-But Stan – that is, your Uncle Stan – and I are trying a different approach to dealing with it, so you'll be able to stay at home now."

"Yay!" Mabel said.

Dipper walked over to his dad. "We're going to help Uncle Ford and Mabel?"

"I'm going to help Uncle Ford, yeah. You can help by keeping Mabel company whenever Ford and I need to work on his stuff," Dad said.

Dipper didn't think that sounded like helping, but he did like playing with Mabel, so he said, "Okay."

"Daddy, why are you wearing a metal hat?" Mabel asked. Uncle Ford was holding her now, and she was looking at his head where he had a bunch of foil on top of it. "Are you playing being a knight? Can I be a knight too? Oh, and an elf. And a princess. I want to be a knight elf princess."

"I don't know that elves traditionally have knights. I'm sure their race would be one of the more open-minded ones about warrior princesses, however," Uncle Ford said.

"'Kay, I'll be an elf warrior princess, and you can be a knight, and Uncle Stan will be the evil shapeshifter," Mabel said.

"Nah, your Uncle Stan is going to be a thief. That's one of the characters in your nerd game, right?" Dad said.

"Yes, thief is one of the DD&MD classes," Uncle Ford said.

"There you go, that's what I'll be." Dad was looking in the fridge when he said that, but then he closed the door to look in the cabinets instead. "And the first thing I'm going to do is go to the store and steal us some groceries."

"Stanley," Uncle Ford said. He sounded a little mad.

"I was joking," Dad said. He looked inside one of the cabinets and made a face. "Mostly."

Uncle Ford made a face too, then he looked at Dipper and smiled. "And what are you going to be?"

"You should be an elf warrior prince like me," Mabel said.

"I can be an elf prince, but instead of a warrior can I be a wizard?" Dipper asked.

"An excellent choice. Elf wizard is one of my favorite character builds. And if you're going to be a wizard, you're going to need a magical item." Uncle Ford patted at his pockets, but he couldn't find anything.

"It's on the counter," Dad said. He picked the thing up and put it over Dipper's head.

"It's a necklace," said Dipper. He wrinkled his nose. Necklaces were for _girls._

"No complaining, you're wearing it. Twenty-four seven, possibly for the rest of your life," Dad told him.

"It's not just an ordinary necklace," Uncle Ford said. "It's a magic amulet of protection against supernatural forces."

"Real magic or pretend magic?" Dipper asked.

"Real magic. That's unicorn hair in the cord."

"Oh." Dipper looked at his necklace again. "That's pretty cool."

"Dipper let me see it," Mabel said. Dipper held it up so she could see better. Mabel gasped. "That's the same as mine, see? Super Twins abilities, go! We should play The Alliance of Morally-Upright Super-Powered Allies after we play knights and elves. Daddy, did you know that was Dipper's favorite TV show after Mysteries Five? And you know what else Dipper said? He said…"

After that Mabel talked to her dad a lot about all the stuff that she and Dipper talked about before, but she didn't ask about the bunk beds. Dipper was worried that she forgot, but he also remembered that she hadn't seen her dad in a really long time, so maybe she wanted to talk to him some first. That would be sad not to be able to see your dad for a long time, so Dipper decided he should let her talk to him for a while before he reminded her.

Dipper's dad was at the stove making noodles now. "Can I help?" Dipper asked.

"Sure you can, buddy," Dad said. He got Dipper a chair to stand on, then put a pot on the stove and a spoon and handed Dipper a jar of sauce he opened. "Pour that in the pot and stir it while it heats up, okay?"

"Okay," Dipper said, and he did it.

"You and your cousin really hit it off, huh?" Dad asked.

"Mabel's my half-twin," Dipper told him. He thought maybe that was a made-up thing, but it sounded a lot better than just regular cousins.

"My mistake. That's good." Then Dad gave him a serious look. "I'm not mad, because it worked out okay, but if anyone ever sneaks into our car like that again, you have to tell me about it."

"I know. I just thought Mabel looked cold, and I thought maybe she didn't have a house or apartment or anywhere to go to be warm." And he had thought maybe if she didn't have a home, then she didn't have a mom or dad either. And maybe when Dad found out she was there – because Dipper knew his Dad would find out sometime – he would let her stay with them, and Mabel could be Dipper's sister. "I wanted to help her."

"Geez, how'd you get to be such a good kid?" Dad asked.

Dipper shrugged. "I don't know." Dad laughed and pet him on the head. Even though Dad had already said it, that's how Dipper knew he wasn't mad at all even a little bit.

"Dad?" Dipper said because there was another question Dipper really, really wanted to ask him, even more than bunk beds, but he was scared to. "Can we stay here?"

"That's the plan. You and me are going to stay in the house here while Uncle Ford and I sort out his problem."

"No, I mean can we _stay_?" For a long time forever kind of stay.

"I don't know about that…" Dad said. "It's not that I don't want to, but it's Ford's house. He might not want us to be hanging around using up his space forever."

"Oh," Dipper said. "Okay." He went back to stirring the sauce.

"Hey, hey," Dad said. He wiped off Dipper's cheeks and Dipper sniffed. "This is really important to you, isn't it?"

"Mabel's my best friend." Dipper never had a best friend before.

"Best friends are pretty great. And I'll tell you a secret, twins and half-twins make the best best friends. You can trust me on that one. And you know, we haven't even looked around town yet. Even if Uncle Ford does want us to leave after we fixed his problem, there might be apartments or somebody willing to rent out a room or, I don't know, something. Whatever we've got to do, I'll make it work this time. I promise."

Dipper nodded and sniffed again. "Thanks, Dad."

"You really are way too good a kid for me, you know that?" Dad said.

Dipper was going to tell him that was stupid, and Dad was the best dad, but all of the sudden Mabel shouted, "Thank you, Daddy! I love you. Dipper, guess what? Daddy says we can have bunk beds!"

"You're going to buy the kids bunk beds?" Dad asked.

"Mabel said they wanted them," said Uncle Ford. "And I wasn't eavesdropping just now, but I heard... and what you said before… I just thought…"

"Uncle Ford," Dipper said. It was rude to interrupt people, but even though Uncle Ford was talking a lot, he wasn't making any sense. "Do you mean we can stay?"

"You can stay," Uncle Ford said. He looked at Dad again. "I don't know how this is all going to work out, I don't know how _any_ of it is going to work out, but… well, we'll figure it out together."


	2. First Meetings

AN: Bonus chapter! I spent a lot of time thinking about how Stan and Ford wound up being single dads in this AU, and I wanted to share with you guys these first moments each of them had with their kids.

* * *

The worst thing about this whole situation was how ill-conceived it was. Ford winced. Poor word choice. The worst thing about this whole situation was how ill- _planned_ it was. Better. If this had happened just two days later, Ford wouldn't even have been here to receive the package Jessica had dropped at his door; he'd already be on his way back to Gravity Falls to move into his now finished house. Furthermore, she hadn't bothered to knock on the door or anything, so it was pure chance that he had left and stumbled across what she'd left while it was still early in the morning. There were days when he didn't even leave his apartment, and then what would have happened? Ford was willing to concede the possibility that Jessica had found out about his upcoming move and knew he hadn't left yet, but there was no way she could have planned for his coffee pot breaking necessitating him leaving to go buy coffee at the convenience store around the block. Maybe that was the worst thing about this whole situation: that he was dealing with it before he'd had his morning coffee. Ford looked at the kitchen counter and sighed. No, the worst part of this whole situation was the whole situation. Ten minutes ago Ford hadn't even been aware that he'd gotten his ex-girlfriend – very, very ex – pregnant, and now he had a basket with a baby in it.

Ford peered into the basket once again, hoping to find something he'd overlooked, though what he could possibly find to make this situation better he didn't know. But no, still just the same three things as the last six times he'd checked. A tightly swaddled sleeping baby; a copy of a birth certificate declaring Mabel Kristen Pines had been born on August 31, 1975 to Stanford Phillip Pines – Ford had no clue why Jessica had bothered with his middle name if she wasn't going to get it right – and Jessica Anne Pines – nor did he know why she had substituted his last name for her own – and a note in Jessica's handwriting, right down to the little hearts for periods, saying, "Do what you want with her. I don't care."

Do what he wanted with her? Ford didn't want to do anything with a baby. He wasn't sure he wanted to have kids ever; he certainly couldn't raise a child on his own right now. But he couldn't just abandon the baby the way Jessica had either. Put her up for adoption, then? That seemed the most prudent choice, but how involved a process was that? Ford was moving in two days, the movers were coming to pick up his things tomorrow, he couldn't hang around for another week or two or more dealing with this if that was what was required. Maybe he could take her with him to Gravity Falls and then begin the process over there? Which meant keeping the baby for longer and having to transport her with him when he moved, which would be a hassle. On the other hand, short of finding a local orphanage and dropping the basket on their doorstep, there didn't seem to be a non-hassle option here. And that kind of abandonment once was more than enough for anyone's lifetime.

Ford looked down at the baby again. Just then her eyes opened up and she began crying. Vigorously. He had a very bad feeling about this. He unwrapped the blanket around her and cautiously peered into her diaper. Still clean. Thank goodness. He knew he'd have to change a diaper eventually, but he'd like to put it off for as long as possible. At the very least he wanted to put it off until after he had a fresh diaper to change her into.

If it wasn't a dirty diaper, then the baby was probably hungry. Ultimately that wasn't all that much better than the diaper scenario, since Ford didn't have any bottles or formula either. He was reasonably certain he could get both those things at the grocery store, but he did recall seeing a baby store not too much further away. It would probably be cheaper to buy the things at the baby store, and while he was there he could buy anything else he might need for over the next couple of days. Decision made, he wrapped her back up in her blanket and, lacking any alternatives, set her back down in the basket and took her out to the car.

It took ten minutes to drive to the baby store, and by that point Ford had given up any ideas of a one-stop shopping trip or doing anything that might hinder him from getting the baby her formula as quickly as possible. She had kept up her screaming for the entire car ride, and her cries had crawled their way into his brain, scratching at the inside of his head with a mounting desperate need to fix whatever was wrong.

He got out of the car and almost grabbed the baby, basket and all, before realizing how bad that might look. Instead he picked her up, leaving the basket in the car, and carefully carried her in one arm as he walked briskly into the store and down the aisles to grab what he needed. Then back to the front of the store to check out so he could rush back home and finally make the crying stop.

The cashier eyed Ford's purchases and then the screaming baby, and he swore if she made a disparaging comment right now, then he wasn't responsible for his actions. Instead she asked, "Your little one is hungry right this second, isn't she?"

"I hope so," Ford said. Because if he fed the baby and she still kept crying, he might just go insane.

The cashier nodded and looked over her shoulder at the other cashier. "We've got a baby emergency here; I'll be back in ten." She stuck Ford's receipt in his bag for him, then grabbed the whole bag and started walking off with it.

"Where are you going?" Ford demanded, hurrying after her.

"We're going to the break room. We've got a hot plate in there for just such occasions." Which Ford took to mean she was going to help him get a bottle for the baby now instead of having to go back home first, which he was profoundly grateful for.

In the break room Ford paced back and forth bouncing the baby at the cashier's recommendation. It didn't make the crying stop, but it wasn't getting any louder either, which was something at least. Meanwhile the cashier quickly and competently made up a bottle for him. She was so competent in fact that when she handed the finished bottle over, he was tempted to ask her to feed the baby as well. But he was trying to be responsible about this, which likely didn't include handing the baby over to random strangers to be fed, no matter how capable they seemed.

Ford stuck the nipple of the bottle in the baby's mouth, and she latched on instantly. Her eyes went wide as she began sucking greedily at the bottle, and the room was filled with the blessed sound of silence. Ford let out a sigh of relief as he watched the baby eat.

The baby was watching him back. After getting over her initial surprise at finally receiving the food she'd been asking for, her little slate blues eyes fixed themselves on his face. One arm managed to work its way free of the loosely wrapped blanket and reached up toward the bottle. She landed on Ford's hand instead, her tiny little hand gripping around his pinky. Ford was utterly transfixed.

The baby – Mabel wasn't just a baby he realized, she was a little person. A little person that Ford had helped create. She was a living being, with her own thoughts and emotions and wants. Maybe those thoughts and emotions weren't that complex now, but they would be someday, and she was counting on him to get her there. She _trusted_ him, he could see it in her eyes. This was his _daughter,_ and after less than an hour together she already believed in him one hundred percent. It was as though in that moment when she grabbed his hand in hers, Ford's center of gravity had shifted right out of his body entirely and into the little one in his arms. She needed him, and he couldn't possibly give her up.

"I don't have any idea what I'm doing," he confided, "but we'll figure it out together."

* * *

Stan pulled up to the house, then double checked the address. This was definitely it. He couldn't decide if this was exactly the kind of place he would have expected Marilyn's parents to live, or the exact opposite. Either way it was two, three times as big as anywhere Stan had ever lived, and at least ten times as nice. He got out of the car and walked up to the front door quickly, feeling like he had a target painted on him. There were dirty back alleys that felt less dangerous than this neighborhood, except here instead of a knife in the back, he'd get the cops called on him for bringing his grungy self to their perfect middle class suburbia. Well, let them. He didn't want to be here anymore than they wanted him, and he'd leave as soon as he got what he came for.

He knocked on the front door. Almost immediately it was opened by a woman who looked a bit like Marilyn had, if Marilyn had been about thirty years older and had sported a pinched expression a bit like she had just sucked on a lemon. "Finally," she said.

"I told you it would take me three hours to get here. I wasn't exactly in the neighborhood when you called." If anything, Stan had gotten here quicker than he'd told her he would.

"Of course you weren't," she said. Stan couldn't decide if she sounded annoyed by the inconvenience or grateful that trash like him wasn't allowed anywhere near her normally. Either way Stan was going to tell her the fuck off, but then he stepped inside the house and lost all interest in her entirely.

Right inside the entry there was a stairwell. Sitting on the bottom stair with a backpack on one side of him and a suitcase on the other was Mason. Stan's son.

He was so big. Last time Stan had seen him, the only time Stan had been allowed to see him, Mason had been a tiny little bean, not quite seven pounds. Now he was an actual little person. His slate blue eyes had darkened to a chocolate brown like Stan's, and he had hair now, slightly curly brown, also like Stan's. His son looked like him. Yeah, Stan could maybe see some of Marilyn in there too, the little button nose instead of Stan's big schnoz, but his son looked like him. That was…

Stan walked up to Mason and crouched down in front of him. He'd come up with a million different things he wanted to say to his son when he finally got to see him again, had spent the whole drive over practicing the exact words, but now he couldn't remember any of them. "Hi there. I like your lizard," was what he ended up on, and what a fucking dumb thing to say.

Mason squeezed the stuffed animal, giving Stan only a little darting glance before ducking his head again. "'meleon."

"What's that?" Stan asked.

"Itsa 'meleon," Mason said, holding the stuffed animal out so Stan could see he was right, in addition to being pedantic and annoying.

He grinned. That sounded exactly like something Ford would have said at that age, and for once the reminder didn't hurt. "You're right; it is a chameleon. You're a smart kid, aren't you?" he asked. Mason nodded. "That's pretty great. You know my two favorite people in the world are real smart guys."

Mason finally looked at him – really looked, not just glanced – and smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Stan said.

Mason looked at him a minute longer, then frowned. Not an unhappy frown, a thoughtful one. "I have something," he said, and he opened up his backpack.

"No, don't unpack," Marilyn's mom said. "You're supposed to be leaving."

Stan glared at her. He'd forgotten the woman was even here, and that was a reminder he didn't appreciate. "I haven't gotten to see my son in almost three years," he growled. "If he wants to show me something, then he's going to get a minute to show me something."

"Fine," she said. "But don't make a mess, and be quick about it."

They would take as long as they took, and maybe a minute more just for the pleasure of pissing her off. Stan didn't say that though, just turned back to Mason, who was now looking nervously back and forth between Stan and Marilyn's mom. "It's okay. What've you got there?" Stan asked.

Mason gave Marilyn's mom one last look, bit his lip, then nodded at Stan. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a photo. Stan recognized it right away. Of course he did, it was the photo from his and Marilyn's wedding. Geez, he had looked so happy back then. Granted, he had been pretty drunk, but even still. He'd thought Marilyn had really wanted him, and she was going to give him a second chance at having family. Turned out all she wanted was his car, and the only thing she ever gave him was something else for him to lose.

Mason pointed to Stan in the picture. "That's my dad," he said. He looked up at Stan, expectant and hopeful. Of all things he looked _hopeful_ , and Stan was not crying.

He wiped under one eye. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm your dad," Stan agreed. "You're going to come live with me now, okay?"

"Okay," Mason agreed. He carefully put the photo away, zipped his backpack back up, and slipped it on. He reached for the suitcase too, but Stan picked it up before he could grab it.

"I've got it for you, buddy," Stan said. He looked around and frowned a little. "Is this all his stuff?"

"That's all of it, but the suitcase is Marilyn's." The woman pressed her lips together for a minute. "We can consider it an inheritance."

"How generous," Stan muttered. "C'mon Mason, let's go." Mason slipped his hand into Stan's. Stan squeezed it, and the two of them walked out of the house.

As soon as they'd stepped outside, Mason turned and waved. "Bye-bye Grandma."

"Oh. Goodbye. You two take care of yourselves." For a second as she looked at Mason, Stan thought he saw a genuine emotion on her face, one that wasn't snobby condescension. Did she actually care about her grandson? Would she want to see him here and there in the future? Not that Stan cared what she wanted, but if Mason wanted to spend time with his grandparents too…

She caught him looking, and her expression soured again. "That was not license to come back here asking for money the way Marilyn used to. I loved my daughter, but she's gone now, and I won't be spending any more time cleaning up after her bad decisions."

Fine. That worked for him. "Don't worry, you won't ever be seeing us again," Stan told her. He turned around and kept walking.

He wanted to storm off, but he couldn't because he had to walk slowly enough for Mason to keep up. Then he couldn't do it because he couldn't stay mad right now. He finally had his son back. After three years, he was finally going to get to raise his son.

"Dad? We going home?" Mason asked.

Shit. He was going to have to raise his son. How the fuck was he going to be able to do this? He thought about the motel room he'd packed up and cleaned out in a hurry when Marilyn's mom had called him and told him to either come pick Mason up or she was taking him to an orphanage. He thought about all the other motel rooms, cheap apartments, people's sofas, his car, all the places he'd stayed in the past years. He even thought about Glass Shard Beach, but he threw that idea out as soon as he had it.

"I don't know where were going," he confessed, "but we'll figure it out together."


End file.
